


A Stolen Moment

by theformerladyofshalott



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23694070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerladyofshalott/pseuds/theformerladyofshalott
Summary: Set in Grimmauld Place before the fifth book.  Hermione has a moment with a spy.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	A Stolen Moment

The small pop of someone apparating got Hermione’s attention first. It was muffled, someone had appeared in the hallway. She was silent for a long moment, listening for some way to identify the latecomer. She was the only person awake in Grimmauld Place, unless Sirius was up, brooding from his room at the top of the house. She heard the sound of a body leaning heavily against the wall. Tonks, maybe. Though she would have lit her wand pretty much immediately. Better risk waking one person with the light of the wand than risk waking the whole house by knocking something over and waking Mrs. Black’s portrait. When no further sounds came to her ears, Hermione stood. The house was under the Fidelus charm, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any danger. Harry was asleep upstairs in the room he shared with Ron. Harry was always in danger. Especially these days. She drew her wand, and kept it raised as she crept to the door of the room. The only light was the dancing firelight. 

Her grip on her wand tightened as she looked into the dark hall. There was a huddled shape, at the base of the wall. “Who’s there?” Her whole body was tense, ready to cast a protection spell if needed. 

“There’s no need for alarm, Miss Granger. You can return to your bed. Or whatever book you were undoubtedly pouring over.” The sound of Professor Snape’s voice had in equal parts relaxed and alarmed her. She was not in any danger, not from the Professor, but he sounded like he was in pain. She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to imagine what he would have endured for the effect to be audible in his voice. She straightened resolutely. 

He wouldn’t thank her, but she wasn’t going to leave him lying in a heap in the hall for anyone to stumble upon. That, she was certain, he would like even less. She shoved her wand in the pocket of her jumper and stepped into the hall. She had the impression that Professor Snape could see her much better than she could see him. An impression that seemed confirmed when he spoke again a moment later, “Incapable of following even the simplest instructions, still, I see.” As far as insults went, it was not near his usual acidic best. 

Her lips pulled tight, but she didn’t veer off course. In a few steps she was beside him. She knelt next to him, “Will it hurt if I get up under your arm to lift you?” 

“Undoubtedly.” He shifted his weight and she got a glimpse of his eyes, reflected in the dim light spilling from the room she’d just left. “But it seems there is no other option.” He lifted his arm, with a grimace and a small grunt of effort. A tremor shook his body. She gritted her teeth and slipped an arm around his waist, holding his wrist in place over her shoulder. Between her efforts and the wall, they struggled into an upright position and she helped him limp into the room with the fireplace, where he collapsed upon the sofa. 

This was probably the most undignified she’d ever seen her Professor. Aside from the time she, Harry, and Ron had knocked him out in the Shrieking Shack to protect Sirius. She blushed at the memory. Shaking her head to push the thought of that moment from her mind, she tugged roughly at his robes, pulling them more or less into place as tremors racked his body. Cruciatus. It had to be. Voldemort had tortured him then, for whatever reason. She didn’t know that Voldemort needed a reason. Given how Harry had described the Dark Lord’s rebirth, she wondered if he was still entirely sane after a decade without a body. 

Given his penchant for murder, he probably hadn’t been all that sane to begin with. She stood again, chewing her lower lip and considering. There was no treatment for the Cruciatus Curse. She left the room without a word, heading for the kitchen where Molly Weasley had stored potions for the use of the whole household. Hermione wouldn’t have said anything to the others, but it was practically a stockpile. Though, since the twins were in residence and Mrs. Weasley was their mother, perhaps it was standard precaution to have the potions on hand. Along with a rather large number of bandages. The bandages had come in handy as it seemed as though Grimmauld Place was actively fighting their attempts to clean it and make it liveable. As though the house itself enjoyed being as dark as the family that had once occupied it. 

She wondered how Sirius had turned out the way he had with such terrible role models. Her hands had been busily sorting through the potions on the counter while she thought. She found an anti-convulsant that she wasn’t sure would work for the after-effects of a curse, as well as a few minor healing potions and a pepper-up potion. That one she knew he wouldn’t take willingly. She set a kettle on the stove, moving quietly but quickly in the darkened kitchen. The kettle had been spelled to boil quickly, so she removed it from the stovetop before it could start to whistle. She retrieved a couple mugs from another cabinet and set the lot on a tray, carrying it back into the room where she’d left Professor Snape. 

He watched her, eyes glittering in the firelight. “I don’t know if this anti-convulsant will do you any good,” she began, uncertainly, her hands moving through the motions of pouring the tea instinctively. 

“It will not,” his voice was still a harsh rasp, unlike his usual silken tones. “The healing potions will help though.” He coughed. “It’s damage to my nerves that is causing the tremors.” Hermione simply nodded and uncorked the potions, handing them to him. When his attention was diverted, she poured the pepper-up potion into his mug of tea. He was struggling to move. She thought about how much Ron and Harry hated Professor Snape. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that seeing him like this, having just been tortured for their sake, would make a difference to them, but it certainly had an affect on her. 

She pushed any thoughts about Professor Snape to the back of her mind, he would not like seeing them on her face. And she rather thought, after four years of sitting his classes, he was good at reading his students. She took the vials back, one after the other and wordlessly lifted the other item on the tray. She’d pulled the bottle of firewhiskey that Sirius had hidden atop the cabinets when she’d gathered the tea tray. She watched him long enough to see his short nod, then tipped a generous portion of the contents into his mug. Once he had the mug in his hand, she glanced at him to make sure the tremors wouldn’t upset the drink, then picked up her book and mug of tea and settled herself back into her chair near the fire. 

There was silence for several moments, then, “Firewhiskey cannot mask the taste of Pepper-up potion, Miss Granger.” His voice was a little stronger. 

“I didn’t think it would, I just thought you could do with a nip after the evening you had.” She didn’t raise her eyes from her book, afraid of what she would see. And a little afraid of what he might see in her face. They sat in companionable silence for a while longer. Hermione’s eyes raised from the book, to study the fire, unseeing, and she toyed with the end of her plait, absently. 

“Whatever are you thinking about now, Miss Granger?” He sounded angry. 

Her eyes left the fire to lock with his, and she hesitated a moment, “Is there any way to fight it?” 

He didn’t pretend not to understand what she was asking him, but he was still silent for so long that she didn’t think he would answer. She turned her head back to the fire and he finally spoke. “No.” Her gaze dropped to the book in her lap. “There is no way to fight it. That is not to say that he doesn’t enjoy it when his victims try.” The words were carefully emotionless, but Hermione still shivered. “The best way to endure is to try to relax your muscles. It won’t stop the pain, but it helps, after.” 

“Thank you, Professor.” The words were nearly a whisper, but she knew he’d heard. She turned a page in her book. 

The only sound in the room was the crackling in the fireplace. After some time, she glanced over and found that Professor Snape had fallen asleep, though small tremors were still shaking his frame occasionally. She chewed her lower lip. She’d never had an opportunity to study her Professor before. He was always watching. His shoulder-length hair didn’t look greasy in the firelight, and relaxed, she thought he finally looked his age. It was hard to believe how young he, Sirius, and Lupin were. 

Would she, Ron, and Harry end up looking so old? She shivered and pushed away the thought that they might not all survive the coming war. She squeezed the book in her lap, they were going to survive. She was going to make sure of it. She rose, setting the book on the table and gathering the tea things as quietly as she could. She hesitated a moment, then tugged the blanket from the back of the sofa and draped it over her Professor. She wasn’t sure if he’d woken, he stirred lightly, then went still again. She gathered the tray and her book and took the tray to the kitchen before heading up to the room she shared with Ginny. Sleep was a long time coming. 

When she finally rose the next morning, Ginny was already in another part of the house, probably helping Mrs. Weasley continue her cleaning sweep. A glance into the room on her way to the kitchen showed that the blanket that had been draped over Professor Snape had been neatly folded and placed back over the sofa. There was no sign that he’d been at the headquarters the previous evening. She hoped that he’d made it back to his quarters at Hogwarts safely, though she had no intention of mentioning his evening visit to anyone.


End file.
